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together—not that he hadn’t wanted to—but I wasn’t ready for that huge step yet, even though I had been tempted on multiple occasions.
    I sat on the bed, and the cushion sank in more as he sat down next to me. He kissed me deeply again while he reached for my hood and brought it down off my head. He broke the kiss, surprise written all over his face.
    “What did you do to your hair?” His tone of voice told me he didn’t like it. I immediately became defensive.
    “Gee, thanks, Austin. Way to make a girl feel good about her new hair.” I rolled my eyes at him.
    “It looks fine, but now you look like a rebellious, troubled teen. I liked your hair how it was,” he said, fingering my hair.
    “Wow, thanks. So to have pink in my hair means I have to be a troubled teen?” I pulled away from him, and my hair fell out of his hand.
    He tried to recover. “Come on, Taylor. That isn’t what I meant.”
    “Oh, I think it was Austin. I like my hair, and I did it for me—not anyone else,” I shot back angrily.
    His face reddened, and before he could speak, I got to the point of him coming over.
    I controlled my voice, trying to hide my anger. “This isn’t why I wanted to talk to you. My hair really doesn’t matter right now.”
    “Okay,” he said, dragging out the word.
    I took a deep breath, getting ready to get it over with. I closed my eyes and just blurted it out.
    “I have cancer, Austin.” I let go of the breath and opened my eyes. He was quiet, and his face was blank. The redness that had graced his face only a few moments before had gone, leaving behind a pale complexion I had not seen on him before.
    “How?” Was the only word that came out of his mouth. He hadn’t moved. Just stared at me, dumbstruck.
    “Uh, I don’t know. I wasn’t ready to find out all about it when the doctor told me. Even if he had told me, I probably wouldn’t have remembered.”
    His voice came out a little shaky. “You’ll be okay, right?”
    “I don’t know,” I said, my voice coming out at a whisper as tears formed in my eyes.
    He finally unfroze and hesitantly wrapped his arms around me. This time he held me lightly, unlike the tight, warm embrace he’d given me earlier. I yearned for the way he usually hugged me.
    “When will you begin treatment?” His voice was more controlled this time.
    “I’m not sure. I need to go back to the doctor Friday. They may make me start before my birthday. One thing they did tell me was the sooner they start, the better the chances of killing the cancer will be.” I was surprised at the calmness of my voice when I felt like I was falling apart inside.
    Austin took my face in his hands, and his gaze found mine. I could see the love and tenderness in them that had swept me off my feet almost a year ago.
    “I love you,” he whispered. “I’ll be by your side,” he promised, telling me the thing I wanted and needed to get through this. The knots seemed to unravel, and it was as if a weight had been lifted. He kissed me softly and carefully, like I was fragile. He had never kissed me this way before, and I didn’t like it.
    “I’m not fragile,” I teased and kissed him harder. I supposed my bruise would say otherwise, but I didn’t want to be treated like I was going to shatter if someone touched me. I leaned against him and soaked up his warmth as he held me until my mom said that it was time for him to go. He gave me a careful hug and goodbye kiss before he left, which I hated. I also hated the sad expression in his eyes when he looked at me. Ugh.
    Without recognizing it, I realized this was why I didn’t want to tell anyone. I didn’t want to be seen or treated differently. He never asked me what kind of cancer I had. I decided it was because he was in shock. Or maybe he didn’t think I knew yet.
     
    ***
     
    The time leading up to my doctor appointment was a blur. I went back to school and fell back into my routine. Everyone other than Austin and Liz had no clue